


The Seraph

by visionaryBuffoon



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: Cults, Fan Characters, Multi, Murder, Original Characters - Freeform, Prostitution, Sex, Trans Male Character, there will be separate chapters for sex scenes and appropriate warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:46:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionaryBuffoon/pseuds/visionaryBuffoon
Summary: A young puff Cleric warrior named Vimmir Sandflow begins his story when the cult who killed his father emerges once again, now going after Vimmir. He must discover his origins and the secrets of Seraphs, all while defending himself against the world.





	The Seraph

**Author's Note:**

> Hey these are some Kirby fan-characters of mine, and im pretty much writing this as a way to develop them. Enjoy!

“What do you want from me!?”   
A young man, cornered in an alleyway, fell into a defensive stance as the sharp pointed tip of his hammer halberd threatened to stab the mysterious attacker. All six of his pale-pink wings shuddered as a chill ran through his body. 

The mysterious assailant did not let up. Their blade inched closer and closer to Vimmir, a hideous smile emerging from the shadow casted by the hood of their cloak. “I want.. Your life, then your wings as proof I killed you…”

Vimmir grit his teeth and held on tight to his weapon. Summoning an energy from deep within, a whirlwind began to pick up around them. “You’re not getting away with either, b-buddy.” The hybrid’s voice croaked.

Startled by the sudden wind, the attacker let his guard down. Sand seemingly came from nowhere, stinging their eyes and lungs.

Vim, unharmed by the mini sandstorm spell he casted, seizes the opportunity to thrust his weapon forward. The tip of the weapon pierced through the person’s back until Vimmir finally withdrew, one-hundred percent sure his assailant was dead. “So much blood… I’m so sorry.”  
As a cleric, it was his duty to see that anyone who died made a safe passage to the underworld, even the bad ones. After all, everyone was equal in the eyes of death.   
Such a small puff couldn’t haul this large body to be buried, so Vimmir summoned yet another small sandstorm to at least dust the body with earth. Muttering a quick prayer, the puff decided his actions would suffice, and hoped the gods would deliver their justice. 

 

Exiting the alleyway, Vimmir ran a nub through the curly fur atop his head, shaking out some of the sand. He sighed and set his course for the local bath house with the desire to clean the sandy blood out of his fur.   
While he walked, the nagging feeling that he was being watched sent chills through his body. Vim walked faster until the bath house was in sight, and quickly rushed through the door. 

A blue waddle dee, an employee at the bathhouse and a friend of Vimmir, was confused as to why Vim had blood all over his body. It seemed her friend was in a hurry, so she decided not to pry. Yet.

Vim wanted to jump into the water, but since there were other people bathing there, he just set down his halberd and slowly sank into the warm bath. The heat relaxed his body at least, which was much appreciated after being nearly killed and using up a lot of his magic. Vimmir let his wings soak as well, not caring if his feathers became too wet to fly. Not like the extra mutant wings helped him, anyways. The hybrid began to doze off amidst his preening...

“Miss, aren't ye a little too young to be in a public bathhouse all alone?” A raspy, low voice whispered, the water rippling as the patron approached the young man.

Vim’s eyes snapped open, and he glared at the Birdon. “I’m not a girl.”

“Ye don’t look like one.” The man shrugged his wings, taking a seat next next to Vim. “Some peculiar wings ye got there, feller.”

“Uhm, what do you want from me? I don’t provide those services anymore.” Vimmir scooted away from the birdon, now getting a better look at the stranger’s face. His beak was terribly scarred, and his lemon-lime feathers were dull.

“Services? Hah! Ye think I’m here to fool around?” The birdon laughed wheezily. “I thought you might need some eh, protection. Ye had blood all over ye, don’t try to hide it.” the man made eye-contact with Vim, his expression turned serious. “Yer wings, ye got six of ‘em. I’ve heard of some lads going around tryna hunt six-winged creatures fer some reason.” 

Vim considered leaving, until that last statement hooked his attention. “Wait, what?”

“Ye heard me, lad.”

“I was just attacked, some guy wanted to kill me and take my wings… I killed him first.” The hybrid explained, turning to face the mysterious birdon. “Uhm. Mind telling me who you are?”

The birdon man sighed at the question. “That’s not important, but if ye must know- My name is Sir Cornu.”

“You don’t look like a knight, Sir Cornu.” Vim smirked as he made his long overdue comeback. “I’m Vimmir.”

“Touche.” The birdon grinned with a hint embarrassment. “Anyways, If ye need a bodyguard… This old bird can help.”

Vim shook his head and smiled. “I’m not just some whore anymore, contrary to popular belief. I’m a cleric, I can fight for myself… But... Thanks anyways, Sir.”

“I believe ye, I’m just worried.” Sir Cornu clarified. “Those guys don’t seem like the type to mess around.” He glanced at the clock on the wall across from them, then returned his sights to Vim. “Welp, it’s about time I fly, Vimmir. If ye need me I’ll be at staying at the Dune’s Inn.”  
Slowly hauling himself out of the bath, the old birdon went to retrieve his hat and goggles, which were hanging on the hooks nearby. He made one last glance at Vim, nodding his goodbye before finally leaving the bath house. 

Vimmir took a deep, long sigh before sinking back into the water. The steam felt nice on his face, and he began to groom himself once again. Physically the young man felt fine, but his heart grew heavier with each silent minute.   
He tried to remember the face of his assailant. It was hidden quite well, so it was plausible that they were from a cult…

“Vim?” A soft, familiar voice called. The blue waddle dee from before approached, holding a pile of clean towels. “Was that one of your clients?”

“Ah, hey Brunerra.” Vim turned around to face his friend. He placed his nubs on the edge of the bath, leaning forward. “He’s just some old guy who wanted to talk. Nothing more.”   
Technically he wasn’t lying, but Vim felt guilty for hiding such a crucial fact from his friend. 

Brunerra nodded and turned around. “Alright, well… If anyone- or anything gives you trouble, just tell me, okay?”

“Right.” Vimmir nodded and sank back into the water. He likely was not going to sleep tonight, so he thought he might as well go out and earn some cash if he was going to stay up.  
Making sure all the blood was washed out of his feathers and fur, Vimmir hopped out of the bath and picked up his halberd, waving goodbye to Brunerra before leaving.   
Now, who would be first to fall victim to the charm of the feathered flirt?


End file.
